The Nature of a Soul
by UchihaMadara2412
Summary: What is a soul? An object? A physical substance? A concept? Nobody knows the truth, all speculations are metaphysical after all. We found out in the second book that basilisk venom destroys horcruxes. In the Sixth book that Voldemort created horcruxes. In the seventh, that the savior himself was one. But if Harry was a horcrux... Why hadn't it died in his second year?


The Nature of a Soul

Chapter 1

* * *

Because the world needs more Madara-centric Fics. **Go away if you don't like a progressively dark Harry, you've been warned!**

* * *

Souls are quite fickle things. One of the Big questions of the world: Does the Soul exist? A metaphysical theory that has yet to be proven true. Well, in the muggle world.

Wizards and witches believe in the existence of a soul. A soul which you could do anything to. Get it sucked out, by the creatures known as dementors, leaving you as a husk that can't function.

Or fracture it, for example and place the pieces in physical items that anchor the main soul to the living plain and create a pseudo-Immortality, as in the case of Tom Marvolo Riddle who is more commonly known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, The Dark Lord and Lord Voldemort. The results of this process are called, Horcruxes.

Seven did Tom make, of these horcruxes – Though the last before his timely demise was unintentional. A Diary, a Ring, a Cup, a Locket, a Diadem, a Snake and a Boy.

Three were killed by a single sword, wrought by Goblin metal. As such, the Ring, the Locket and the Snake were destroyed.

Two succumbed to basilisk fang; The Diary and the Cup.

One was lost to living flames, and such, the Diadem was lost once more, this time, forever.

The last was destroyed by spell. The Avada Kedavra cast at the Boy killed the soul that the spell placed all those years ago in a crumbling hidden cottage.

And so, the story went forth. Evil was vanquished and Good triumphed one more, as was the endless cycle. But did you know... That Basilisk venom kills horcruxes? You did, after all, we found out in the year of the Boy's 12th.

Let's look back to the distant past shall we?

That same boy, was stabbed by the same teeth that he plunged into the heart of the diary moments after he killed the Great Serpent, the Basilisk. This Serpent had venom so deadly, that it would kill in minutes if not seconds.

Then, if what we had seen was true. Why hadn't the horcrux within the boy perished after the Basilisk venom ran its course. In the original story, it hadn't, but this isn't the original story is it?

In this story, the small sliver left behind in Harry Potter's soul imprint was banished, destroyed in the wake of basilisk venom.

In this story, the boundaries of human perception are warped beyond all recognition, as a being revered as being a one of the most powerful people – but forgotten – in existence, on the level of a God, shoved itself back into existence once more squeezing it's gigantic dark soul and essence into a gap left behind by the departed sliver of soul.

And it did fit, if only barely. It just had to change the vessel the soul deposited itself in, after all, a good body makes for a good strong soul – The tears of that bird thing helped a lot. This godly being didn't really mind being stuck in the dying boy at that moment, he didn't mind that he would probably never contact his host, or effect the world outside him.

His mere engulfing, corruptive presence would do enough. As a wise man once said. 'Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.' His presence would bring great power and lost knowledge to the boy, and as expected the boy would use his power to kill the 'Dark Lord Voldemort.' It would just take time, and patience.

Just like a butterfly's wings can cause a hurricane on the otherside of the earth, one small change can distort lives forever.

And ruin the plans of manipulative old men.

* * *

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Hero of the Wizarding World, blah blah blah, all that rubbish, lay convulsing on the cold stone floor, his body was battling against the Basilisk venom with the help of Phoenix tears at the moment. The tears hadn't healed the Boy instantly, to Fawkes' confusion, so he cried a bit more, and more, and more. As the only logic that bird held was that there wasn't enough tears to heal the injury.

Ginny hovered unsteadily over Harry, eyes darting everywhere in the hopes that someone would come and help her get Harry to the infirmary, seeing as the all powerful Phoenix tears weren't working maybe Headmaster Dumbledore or Madame Pomfrey would know what to do.

"Ginny!" Was that... Ron? Yes it was, vibrant red hair and puddles of freckles ran into the room, hugging Ginny with the force of a battering ram. Her older brother was rambling, going on about how much he was worried and that he was glad that she was safe.

"Ron." She interrupted his tangent. "Come help me carry Harry! I don't know what's wrong with him, he's been like that for ages!"

Ron looked over his best friend worriedly before picking up the now still Harry by the pits of his armpits and pulling him backwards, Harry's legs being carried by Ginny. It took them a while, and with the help of Fawkes, but they managed to get Harry out of the tunnels and to the infirmary, ignoring the catatonic Ex-Defence Professor in the entrance chamber. Harry was more important.

* * *

"Goodness me! Quick, Quick! Bring the boy in here and lay him on the bed. Better scan him to see what's wrong... Miss Weasley! You better get on one of those beds as well, you look like you've been to hell and back. No, no exceptions, you need your rest." The nurse fussed over Harry's comatose state before gently pulling Ginny to an unoccupied bed and setting her down.

Ron sat by his sister's side, drawing her into a half hug and comforting her as they watched Harry being treated.

Deep in the depths of his mind, Harry sat in the middle of nowhere. It was an apt description for the place he found himself in, as all he could see was an endless plain of white. It was quite disconcerting as he couldn't see if he was standing on anything. It was just white, he couldn't see any evidence of walls or a ceiling, even the floor was missing!

Harry tried looking around again, in the hopes that something, anything, would be able to give him a sense of direction. A sense of what the hell this place was.

Too bad his eyesight was as bad as ever, and with no glasses – He didn't even have any clothes – he had no hopes of finding anything in this place.

Unsatisfied, Harry ploped down with a huff, staring at the blank expanse in discontentment. He didn't notice it at first, but as the thing grew he could see some sort of black splodge where his feet were. He leaned forward, squinting his eyes to see if the spodge would become clearer.

It did actually. What was once a blur or a splodge, was now a single blade of black grass. Strange, he thought to himself. As curious as ever, he got up on his knees and knelt over the grass, poking it lightly with a finger.

Another blade of grass shot out of the, whatever it was, next to the first blade of grass.

"Huh." The last Potter tilted his head at the strange grass and decided to poke it again, resulting in another blade of grass. Smiling childishly, Harry kept poking the grass over and over, giggling all the while, it was fun!

Soon enough he had a small circle of black grass big enough for him to sit on, which he did promptly. As soon as he sat down, the grass spread out in a wave, covering the what could be now called ground for miles all around.

Harry rolled about in the soft grass, marveling over its springy texture. He stopped on his stomach, watching as a red flower bloomed in front of his face, it's four petals as red as his blood and the stem the colour of the grass from where it bloomed.

Harry smiled and settled down to sleep next to the flower, bright, black rimmed, green eyes drooping as he watched the flower sway to an invisible breeze.

* * *

"He's waking up!"

"Thank goodness." There was a muffled rush of footsteps and a shadow cast over him, Harry blinked open his eyes in confusion, watching as the familiar figure of the Infirmary Matron fussed over him.

The woman pursed her lips as she stared at his face, leaning forward and darting from side to side, her surprised expression becoming even more surprised when Harry's eyes followed her movements with precision.

"Harry..." She questioned, "Can you see me clearly?" Harry nodded in response. "How many fingers am I holding up?" She moved away to the end of the bed and then even further away, holding up two fingers on each hand. Harry told her so, becoming confused when she gasped slightly.

"Harry mate." Huh, it was Ron. Hey! There was Ginny! She looked alright... Oh, back to Ron. "You've not got your glasses on, mate. You're seeing perfectly fine though..." The redhead looked as confused as Madam Pomfrey and Ginny.

Harry blinked and looked wide eyed at his best friend. "Really?"

Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Hmm, must be the copious amounts of Phoenix tears." Pomfrey muttered, walking over to the boy and shooing Ron away. "Go Mr. Weasley, help your sister get some food, her hands are shaking awfully there." She drew the privacy curtains around the bed and set up a few charms before going over to Harry and drawing back the covers.

"You see Mr. Potter, that you will need to get reaccustomed with your body again. Your body has grown significantly since you were last awake, and new muscles and pathways in your brain have been created. I assume it will take a month or two to get you back on your feet as usual, Harry."

Harry looked down at his bigger and assumingly taller body with a frown. " I feel fine." He murmured to himself, sitting up and leaning back on the pillows put in place a few seconds before. "Better than I've ever felt in my life."

Pomfrey scowled, "Never the less, you shall be resting here over night . I'm afraid you might not make it to the leaving feast, you have been unconscious for several days."

Harry looked up at the worried woman. "Really?!" He looked back down at his lap and stared at the covered legs for a while, musing on what he had been told. A few days!

Harry started listening to an argument on the other side of the curtain, where Madame Pomfrey had retreated to a little while ago. It seemed to be Madam Pomfrey and... Professor Dumbledore?

"Poppy my dear, I'm afraid the boy will have to go back to his Aunt and Uncle's the same day as everywhere else. It is imperative that he does so, for his safety, the wards at Privet Drive must be recharged and the only way to do that is for Harry to be there."

Harry frowned at this, what was the Professor going on about?

Pomfrey sounded rather annoyed with the headmaster. "He can't Albus, I mean he won't be able to physically move for a while until he re-accustoms himself to his changed body, I would say around a month or so. He needs rest and rehabilitation. He can't get that at the Dursley's." She paused and tutted, reacting to something Dumbledore had done.

"I've done the medical checks myself, Albus." She said angrily. "And as is compulsory for all students, a background check is performed in the cases of those with worrying medical records. Mr. Potter finds himself among those with worrying medical records. He won't be returning to that place, Albus. End of the conversation."

The sharp click of the Matron's heels approached his part of the infirmary, a hand gently pushing aside the dividing curtains to let herself in.

Harry looked worriedly at the Medi-Witch, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The woman smiled at him gently and pushed the hair out of his eyes, which he didn't even know was there, clucking her tongue when she ran her hands through his locks.

"Your hair had gotten even worse Mr. Potter. I don't know what happened to you aside from the Basilisk venom and Phoenix tears incident, but I'm sure that doesn't result in rapid hair growth!" She said jokingly, bringing a smile to Harry's somber face. "Now, if you would turn your head, yes like that. I can get this mess into some kind of order." She fiddled about behind him, pulling here and there and muttering a spell under her breath.

"Done." She came back round to where he could see her and huffed a little laugh. "I couldn't get the fringe into the hair tie so you'll have to deal with that, perhaps get it trimmed, it's covering your eyes just a bit."

Harry looked up, spotting the familiar black of his hair just at the edges of his eyebrows and reaching into his eyes. "It's fine Madam Pomfrey, I can see well enough now. It won't be a problem."

"Well, if you're sure?" Harry nodded. "Well then, I'll go get you some food, you look like you're hungry." Pomfrey puttered away, closing the small room made of curtains behind her.

Just a few minutes later, a wizened hand pushed aside the curtain, followed by an even more old body. Half moon spectacles perched on his nose and bright blue and pink checkered robes. Dumbledore, he scowled.

"Harry, My boy! Its good to see you awake."


End file.
